First Contact
by Crazy Phoenix Productions
Summary: Ryu, on a rare vacation, enconters the Dolls... and their leader


First Contact

The girl stood before me defiant and glass eyed. Her ilk had somehow managed to disable or kill everyone in the train car but me. My best friend was on the ground behind me, thankfully, not one of those in the later category. My guard was up but the three piece suit I was in was not meant for fighting. She stepped over the corpse of one of Ken's father's body guards, scanning me with a glance that was more robotic than human, "Retrieving fighter data… located… Ryu: No listed surname, world warrior champion, hospitalized previous Champion Sagat. Use extreme caution." I didn't need my previous mistakes brought up. The fight with Sagat was one I should have lost, "Realigning mission objective: Capture."

The day had started like every other I had taken to visit my best friend in San Francisco. Even though Ken called it a vacation, we both got up early for morning practice. Shortly after breakfast Ken drug me to the opening of his father's new train service. He called it "the first true cruise liner" on land. There were all manor of dignitaries, business officials, investors and me. I stuck out like a sore thumb, and felt naked without my headband. Ken had provided me with an… Armano suit, and some shoes that shone more than was necessary. I refused to wear socks, much to Ken's chagrin.

Ken spent most of the day drinking and hitting on women. I did neither. I never understood why America's since of beauty was wrapped up in cosmetics. The only women I've ever been attracted to were the women I met on the fight circuit. No, not the ones holding the signs, parading around in three square centimeters of cloth, the ones in the ring going toe to toe with their often larger male counterparts. I once saw a Chinese fighter take down a Russian wrestler easily twice her size.

Never the less, Ken insisted upon introducing me to woman after woman. All of which produced little or no interest from me and I sustained little or no interest from them. After several failed attempts to "hook me up" Ken had a few drinks with his father. That's when the chaos started. The side of the train exploded in a gaping hole that sucked several passengers though it. In place of the missing passengers, several small framed soldiers popped in. They were all female and clothed in tactical armor, but one stood out. She was taller than the rest and clothed in a blue-green set of armor. On her chest was a label: "Killer Bee". She felt… wrong.

They proceeded to decimate the occupants of the train. I did what I could, but one man can only save so many, and the restrictions on my movement didn't help. Ken managed to take out a few of the female soldiers but his drunkenness resulted in his knock out when he tried to take on 'Killer Bee'.

In the end, I was left with the leader and two of her underlings. Then she pulled off her mask. Beneath it was a girl, probably slightly younger than I was at the time. She had bright blue eyes and radiant blonde hair. Most of her head was covered by a cowl, but what stuck out the most was the scar on her left cheek. Her ki was torrid and polluted, but I gleaned that she had not always been this way. Whoever destroyed her had given her that scar, but not without one hell of a fight.

So now we're back to present. The two girls turn at Killer Bee's insistence and weave around her. They charged as if one person. Where the smaller of the two attacked high; the larger attacked low. My skills were suited more to one on one fights, but I adapted. I defended in two places at any given time and used all of my senses to keep tabs on the girls as they attacked me. Their constant barrage kept me on the defensive but slowed with every attack. Soon I had a chance, and I took it.

The smaller of the two had lost a step first. So when she aimed high I ducked under and caught her compatriot's leg. I hated disabling fighters; it was akin to breaking an artist's fingers, but this probably wouldn't be permanent. I popped her femur with a surgical blow. The bone broke. The larger of the two screamed in pain as she fell to the ground. This startled the smaller of the two and gave me just enough time to put her down. Another surgical strike to the mid-section resulted in her passing out from lack of air in her lungs. I thought I had a moment to pause, but Killer Bee knocked that illusion out of me.

I think her elbow connected with my jaw, I don't quite remember. All I know was that I was on my back in one blow. I felt like I had been hit by a truck. My body must have reacted out of training because when I realized what I was doing, I was in the process of defending myself against Killer Bee's thunderous punches and kicks. Every hit I took was painful beyond words. There was no reason for someone this small to be this powerful. I realized something, this girl was going win; it was only a matter of time. I did the only thing I could think of, I jumped out of the train and hoped Killer Bee would follow.

If I had read the attack girls' dynamic properly, removing Killer Bee would render the others immobile, or at the very least without a purpose. I tumbled across the grass of California wine country and found that Killer Bee soon followed. Only instead of rolling like an orange thrown out of a moving vehicle, she was on top of me in a pounce that would have put me down, had it connected. Killer Bee's boots slammed into the ground where I was once was. The dirt erupted in all directions.

I used the second of reprieve to remove my sleeves. I wasn't going to win this fight, and I wasn't going to give in to the darkness in my soul. That left one option. Whatever happened to this girl to make her the… doll she was, was tied to the pollution in her ki. I was going to try and fix it.

That was about all I got out of the plan before I my feet were knocked out from under me. I moved to catch myself but Killer Bee was still under me. She positioned herself awkwardly and then thrust her body upwards in a kick that would have made Olympic gymnasts jealous. The Attack that resulted looked like my Shoryuken if performed with a kick. I was completely unprepared. I felt my jaw crack as her boot connected, but I slid away and defused the attack.

I was done. That last attack had done it for me, and for whatever reason she wanted to capture me was going to happen. I fell to one knee, it hurt to breathe. My ribs stung, my chest burned, my legs ached and the jump from the train had cut me in several places. I could recover, but would I be given the chance?

Killer Bee stalked closer to me. She had halted her attack, and though her face was blank, I could tell she was impressed. By what, I'm not sure, but I got the chance I needed. She must have thought I was defenseless because she approached unguarded. I used the chance to jab at the center of her spirit, her ki, with a portion of my own. If I hit the right spot with the right amount it might reset her. She would never be the same as she was before, but she might get her mind back.

Killer Bee screamed. It was a girlish voice in a kind of pain that seemed more emotional than physical. I watched the glass disappear from her eyes, and then she looked at me. She fell to her knees and held her stomach. She looked like a girl, a late teen girl that had seen a kind of pain I could only imagine. After a few moments of stunned silence her eyes watered with the precursor of tears. I moved to her and wrapped my arms around her. I don't know why, but I think I saw what I might become if I let the darkness take me, and I felt for her.


End file.
